The Pain of Hermione Granger
by Show-The-Love
Summary: Hermione had been having an after-effect from the torture at Malfoy Manor, and had problem dealing with it.


**A/n: Hey all! It's been awhile! Just gotta say some quick things before you read this new One-shot!**

**Okay, so I know I've been saying I was going to continue the Remus/Tonks argument, but every time I tried continuing it, it seemed… wrong. **

**So, I won't be continuing that. **

**And, that's all my news. Enjoy the Story!**

Hermione was good with pain. She knew which spells to use, and when, what position to sit in to stop pain, even what kind of muggle medicine to use. There was only one thing with pain she was bad with, and it was the most painful thing she had ever felt.

All those years ago, at Malfoy Manor, Hermione had been torture, brutally, by the evilest which Hermione had known, Bellatrix Lestrange. She sliced Hermione with a knife, over and over again. Hermione had watched her own sticky, red blood poor from her arms, legs, and chest. Hermione had to go through 32 Crutiatus Curses, one after the other, after the other. There were also many other curses used against her. It was so much physical pain that even thinking about that night made Hermione want to burst out into tears.

Now, Hermione was having after-effects of the curses. She would feel her muscles tighten and her head throb. Hermione's lungs would decide to stop working, so her throat would burn for air. It was the worst feeling in the world, in Hermione's opinion. When the after-effect 'episode,' as she called it, would happen, she would try her hardest to wiggle into one of Ron's shirts, and curl up in bed, clutching her torso for dear life. Hermione would wait, sometimes, for hours for the pain to seise.

Hermione had never told Ron about the pain she had started to feel. She didn't want to worry him, because she knew Ron would rush her to St. Mungo's, even though she knew the doctors couldn't help. They can't do too much healing when something was done with Dark Magic, as she had learned over the years. He would waste time worrying, when there was no need too. She could deal with the pain, it's not like it was killing her. Luckily, the pain would come when she was home alone, with Ron not expected to be home for more than a little while.

Tonight, Hermione was cooking diner for Ron. They usually ordered in, but Hermione decided to treat Ron. She was in the middle of cutting up the red peppers to add to her stew when she felt a slight pain in her head. Hermione thought nothing of it, until the pain intensified. It kept growing and growing, and then her stomach started to hurt. Her muscles tightened up, as if Hermione had run several miles. She tightened her grip on the knife, as if the pain that was consuming her would travel from her to the knife. Her grip on the knife turned her knuckles white.

Hermione tried to walk to the bedroom, but she only made it to the door that led from the kitchen to the living room. Her legs ached so much that she tripped over them, and she flew to the floor. She ended up cutting her hand with the knife on her way down, and there was a lot of blood, even though it wasn't to big of a cut. Hermione tried to get up, but the pain was too horrible, so she ended up just laying on the floor. Hermione kept griping the knife, holding on for dear life, like it would be the only thing that could stop the pain.

It was the worst she had ever felt, and Hermione felt as if it would never stop, but just get worse, and worse, and worse. She hated how weak she felt at the moment, as if it was to worst thing she had ever faced in her life. She helped kill a part of Voldemort! Hermione figured that if she could kill Voldemort's soul, she could get up from the floor. She tried to raise herself up, slowly. Hermione was wrong. She still couldn't get up.

Then, Hermione heard the door front door open. She gasped, remembering that Ron was due home. "Hermione? Hermione, where are you?" Ron yelled into the flat as he walked in. He walked toward the kitchen, and saw Hermione, lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face, and blood. Lots of it. Ron Weasley almost fainted right there.

"Hermione! Crap! What happened? Is that a knife? Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione, only realizing then that she was still holding the knife, dropped it. Ron knelled down next to Hermione as fast as he could, and pulled her up into a sitting position so her back was against the kitchen door, and his arm was around her shoulders. "I-It h-hurts," Hermione chocked out, glad to see that her vocal chords have decided to work. "What hurts, 'Mione?" Ron asked, urgently. Hermione just shook her head, and put her head on his shoulder, trying hard not to scream in pain with that small little movement. "Okay, I'm going to apparate us to St. Mungo's, alright?" Ron looked down at Hermione, tears threatening to spill from his eyes at any moment.

Ron didn't like seeing anyone in pain, but seeing Hermione in pain almost killed him. Ron had promised Hermione that she would never feel the pain she had felt at Malfoy Manor. He had promised her that when they were at Shell Cottage, the day Dobby had died. Ron wasn't sure if Hermione had heard him, because she was fast asleep, but he still didn't want to break it. He would rather break every bone in his body and skip every meal for a thousand years than see Hermione in pain. Hermione was a fighter-a warrior-and if she was laying down, crying from pain, it had to be huge.

"No! No, no, no!" Hermione screamed into Ron's neck. She most certainly did not want to go to St. Mungo's, and she most certainly did not want Ron to worry over her. She was fine. Hermione could deal with a little pain by herself. "I-I'm okay. I don't n-need h-h-help," Hermione said, trying her hardest to stop crying. Ron had no reason to be worried about Hermione.

"Damn it, Hermione! You don't need to do everything by yourself!" Hermione looked up at Ron. His face showed so many emotions at once that it kind of scared her. His eyes were swimming with tears, even though they haven't fallen yet. Ron looked so concerned, and worried, and scared for her. Hermione didn't want to worry Ron at all, but she saw how impossible that would be. "Okay, Ron. But, I'm s-still not going to S-St. Mungo's," Hermione said as she moved her head back down onto Ron's chest. Ron chuckled at her stubbornness, and the movement of his chest cause Hermione to suck in her breath. The pain had not yet disappeared, and Ron was grasping her hand to stop the bleeding. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. So, so sorry that you feel this," Ron whispered as he pulled her closer, and stroked her hair.

Hermione's lungs started to take in more air, and she took deeper and bigger breaths. She gladly took in the clean, fresh air that she had been missing, and breathed in the scent of her amazing husband. Her muscles started to relax, and the pain had started to cease. All the pain that was left was in her head. Hermione smiled slightly, and rose up to kiss Ron on the cheek. "Thank you," Hermione whispered. Ron held her closer, silently promising to be there for Hermione if this ever happened again, to be able to comfort her, forever and always.


End file.
